Nuttopia

Warning: Here there be smut

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  "Er. Where are my pants?" he enquired at a murmur.
  "Why do you need them now?" Delilah smirked. "You've been leaving your bed without them for weeks, now."
  The tides of unbounded mortification flooded his face with a burning heat that only surprised Peter by not causing spontaneous human combustion. "...please tell me I at least wore my longjohns..."
  Delilah laughed. "After the first time we tried to stop you by stealing them, yes. And for the record, you wore your dressing-coat rather admirably cinched shut. With a bonus safety-pin."
  "...deus..." If it wasn't for Delilah's smile, he'd have hidden under the covers and waited for the world to go away. "You have a vicious streak, don't you?"
  "Only where men are concerned."
  "I apologise on behalf of my entire gender. Now can I please have some *pants*?"
  Delilah folded her arms, her face had gone cold again. Peter gained the sense that he was being tested as she simply said, "No."
  Peter deflated, rearranging his empty plates. He was used to his father denying him even the most simple of things. He made himself finish his meal despite the tight feeling in his stomach and let himself have thinking time as it all settled. "May I ask you to turn your back whilst I fetch some variety of coat or covering so I can look for my pants?"
  The very knife-edge of a smirk. "No."
  He pondered her observing him, trying to imagine the lecture she would give. "Would I come to harm if I did rise from my sickbed?"
  "No."
  He made a toga out of a bedsheet and, thusly costumed, went seeking Iris. Who was, incidentally, on her return trip with Hatchy in tow.
  "Now," she said. "Get something out of your hatch that will make Mommy all better, please."
  Hatchy obediently opened the porthole in his bronze ribcage and rummaged around inside. His hand came back out with three yellow cylinders containing pills. They had written instructions on them in a serious lettering.
  Thrice a day, following meals, and the entire collection of pills had to be swallowed.
  Iris was the one who took one look at Peter's bedsheet toga, glared meaningfully at Delilah, and scurried off to fetch the missing pants. Significantly cleaned of their accrued stains and pressed to within an inch of their metaphorical life.
  Delilah followed him all the way into the bathroom, arms still folded.
  "Please leave while I change?" he begged.
  "Why? I've seen everything."
  "Now that I have regained my full mental faculties, I do not feel proper about exposing myself to you. And I evidently did not feel so during my illness. Please... I love you beyond reason, but... please... respect my need for this?"
  This earned a warm smile and a, "Very well. I'll wait in the hall."
  Weighed in the balance, indeed. Peter found himself wanting to locate the two cads who had hurt her so abominably and give them the drubbing of a lifetime. Perhaps for the rest of their lifetime. But he doubted such sentiments spoken out loud would impress her.
  The key would have to be honesty intertwined with respect.
 
  During the first week, Delilah adored the pills despite their ill effects on her appetite. Because they drove away her symptoms like none other of her potions could accomplish. During the second week, she noticed the Smell that issued from her urine and, coupled with her nausea, it drove her to distraction.
  She would have thrown the pills away, then and there, were it not for the doting attentions of Peter, Iris, and the four mechanical children.
  During the third and final week of the course, she counted the days remaining.
  She was certain she reeked, though she bathed once a day, of the stench she smelled on the toilet. She was positive her complexion had suffered. She knew her figure had undergone the trials of attrition. All the things that made her attractive and valuable to others, she was positive, had faded out of existence under the influence of this loathsome medicine.
  And yet, without fail, Peter bought her flowers.
  Without fail, Iris bought her tempting foods to tantalise her appetite.
  And the boys... they tried so hard to make her happy.
  Three would find shiny things or paint blobby pictures with assorted things... some of them paint. Hatchy would offer her sandwiches. The Spine read to her -painfully slowly- from penny dreadfuls, all containing cowboys. And Rabbit... Rabbit tried his utmost to make her laugh.
  Peter, the sneaky old cur, also bought her something to do. Papers and miscellany involved in running the house. Things he usually didn't get involved with until someone chased him down about it. He knew that even a temporarily infirm lady of science preferred nothing more than a problem to solve.
  Solve it, she did. Delilah knew people. She knew the kind of people who knew all about the kind of people who were so needful of employment that they would not complain of a single thing. Not even - for example - a household with four adult-sized metal automaton babies, two wives and one husband. Well. Potentially the last three.
  It did mean employing the sort of people who were so desperate for employ that they'd put up with all that nonsense, but at least the house was properly staffed.
 
  No-one else would go up to the third floor and Colonel Walter's laboratories or all the robots who spent most of their time there. Which meant that the third floor quickly became the place to do the things they most wanted to keep to themselves.
  The robots had a music room, and a succession of tutors with low standards and varied interests to keep them busy. On the plus side, they were learning how to play properly. On the minus side, they were learning very quickly.
  But while there was music...
  Iris gasped and giggled as Lady Moreau embraced her from behind. "I take it you're back to full health, then."
  "And for a change, I smell better, too," the Lady purred into her neck. She was doing very unladylike things with her hands. Caressing Iris through her clothes in ways that made her weak in the knees. "I've been waiting to show you my secrets for so long..." Kisses, now. Kisses up and down her neck. On her ear. Against her jawline.
  Iris put her folding down, laying her hands above Lady Moreau's and slowing her only a little. "I'll faint," she whispered.
  "If you do, I'll have to take you to our bedchamber," Lady Moreau murmured between kisses. She slipped her way into Iris' arms and gently kissed each eyelid. "Revive you... and undress you... and show you the paradise of your..." kiss, "...beautiful..." kiss, "...body..."
  Her lips tasted sweet. Their tongues brushed briefly and tickled each other's lips.
  "You were goin' t' do that anyway, m'lady."
  She had a wicked gleam in her eyes, and a fiercely delighted smirk. "True." She kissed her way around to the other ear, and down the other side of Iris' neck. "You've worked so hard for us. Isn't it time you were rewarded?"
  "What about Peter?"
  "He's with the babies. He'll be fine. Besides, he's still getting his strength back." Clever, skilled hands seduced her bodice open from the neckline down. "Even he'd acknowledge our right to entertain each other."
  Iris hummed in delight as Lady Moreau made her excruciatingly slow way down to her breasts. "Not here," she managed. "We'll muss up the laundry."
  They crept like thieves towards the boudoir and fell, giggling, into the bed that they had spent many an exhausted night merely embracing in. Now she had the chance to unwrap Lady Delilah, just as much as the beautiful doctor had an opportunity to unwrap her. And, oddly, her hands were shaking and shy. She didn't know what to do and feared getting it wrong.
  "First time with a woman?" breathed Lady Moreau.
  "First time with anyone," whispered Iris.
  Lady Moreau stopped cold. Retreated. "You? A virgin? But you know so much..."
  "Just 'cause I been taught don't mean nowt about... And anyway, I'm s'posed'a stay..." The blush that had once felt so nice burned her face. And her neck. And her shoulders.
  "Oh no. Ssh. Ssh. It's all right, now," Lady Moreau whispered. "It's your first time. It should be memorable in all the right ways."
  "But... what about you?"
  "You can show me what you'd like to try, if you like. Do to me what you'd love done to you. Experiment."
  Experiment she did. It began with kissing and cuddling. Two things Iris was comfortable with and could handle. When her hand drifted down to caress Lady Moreau's neck and shoulders, the lady's did the same. It was exciting. It was delightful. It was everything Iris wanted and then some. It was glorious nakedness and innocence and deviltry and a slice of heaven.
  She grabbed for all she could get. Certain that she'd never have another chance. Desperate to feel every last speck of her, lest they never touch again.
  And Lady Moreau was eager to help her to that goal. Especially when curious fingers lit inside her moist split. Then Lady Moreau-- Miss Delilah... became the guide.
  It was a world of their own with no need for any borders larger than the bedsheets and their mutual delirium. A symphony of lips and fingers and breast and bodies, seeking nothing more than joy in each other. Iris felt like a bubble of light was building up inside her. Filling her body from head to toe with etherial aether. Making her float to heaven itself with Delilah as her pilot.
  And then the bubble burst, scattering that light all through her. All through Delilah. All through the room that had become their Eden. And bled away like the sparkles from fireworks.
  She held tight to Delilah. Gasping and sighing and kissing what pale flesh she could reach.
  "And that," panted dear darling Delilah, "is what we call The Old Hysterical."
  "O God," Iris managed. "No doctor could do that... 'Pon my oath."
  Delilah looked up. Froze. Took on a more defensive posture. "Like what you saw, Mister Walter?"
  Iris found the energy to turn her head. There, in the doorframe, was none other than the lord of the manor. He was blushing indigo.
  "I -uh- heard your moans," he said, looking everywhere but at their naked bodies. He finally found focus on their breathless faces. "I was initially concerned for your health. Um. Once I realised what -uh- that you were... entertaining each other... Um. I stayed to make sure you... were completely all right." He coughed. "And to make certain the boys didn't -uh- complicate issues."
  Delilah's challenging eyes raked over his body like she wished she could rake him over hot coals. Her gaze lingered on his pants. "Huh. So you weren't watching for *your* entertainment."
  Now he leaned inside the room. "If I'm not impertinent... May I ask... did the two of you come to... a satisfactory... Um... A pleasant... Er..." He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling with moisture in his blue eyes. "Diditendwithoutpain?"
  Iris could see all the fire inside Delilah quench like a white blade into water. The clinging shadows that lingered around her fled to mere blurs of their former darkness. "You... were actually afraid *for* us?"
  Now he turned away. Now a hand reached up to his face to -she knew the movement well- dash tears from his eyes. "Yes, damnit," his voice was thick. Clotted with emotion. "I didn't want either of you t--*"
  "Colonel?" Iris panted. "Are you--?"
  Delilah sat up, idly arranging a shift over her body. "Your first time wasn't... amenable at all. Was it, Colonel?"
  He didn't speak, but his face spoke volumes. It screamed, Yes! Yes it hurt like a thousand knives and it hurt more beyond my body!
  Iris found the strength of her words. "For the record, I had a wonderful time with darling Delilah."
  Delilah caught on, "And I found dear Iris to be eminently delightful."
  His knees almost went out from under him. "Oh, thank God." He slumped into the doorframe, but kept himself upright. He levered himself into complete verticality and bowed for them. Eyes still damp. "I'll keep the boys occupied while you two... enjoy each other."
  Delilah waited until he was out of earshot. "That idiot expects us to just-- carry on with round two? After dropping a bomb like that?"
  Iris found her shift. "He was worried for us."
  "Yes. Because someone hurt *him*." She vented a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. "Damn that man!"
  Iris smiled, hugging dear Delilah. "What's he done to you, now, hm? Made you realise you'd assumed the worst about him?"
  "And he *let* me!"

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...is anyone reading this?